


Reflections

by Nymphaeus



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Ambiguity, Chocolate Box Exchange, Chocolate Box Exchange 2021, Codependency, Complicated Relationships, Don't Examine This Too Closely, Dubious Consent, Hallucinations, Hand Jobs, Headaches & Migraines, Implied Sexual Content, Implied Timeline Fuckery, Implied time loop, M/M, Mild Smut, Mirrors, Non-Consensual Touching, Obsession, Obsessive Behavior, Open to Interpretation, POV Cloud Strife, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Sephiroth (Compilation of FFVII), Unhealthy Relationships, conflicted feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-13 10:07:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29276685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nymphaeus/pseuds/Nymphaeus
Summary: Written for the Chocolate Box Exchange 2021Lately, Cloud's night time hallucinations have been becoming more frequent and more unsettling. Plagued by strange dreams and an increasing apprehension that there might be something more going on - something sinister that lies just beyond his grasp. Cloud fears his own mind might be slowly slipping from him and no one seems to be willing to give him any answers, least of all the man who keeps insisting on playing the main part in Cloud's nightly torment.
Relationships: Sephiroth/Cloud Strife
Comments: 12
Kudos: 61
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 6





	Reflections

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chelicerata](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chelicerata/gifts).



> Hey, chelicerata!
> 
> Happy Chocolate Box Exchange reveal day!
> 
> It was so hard for me to decide whether I should do Sephiroth/Cloud or Sephiroth/Aerith, believe me! I was so tempted to try the latter and then I ultimately stuck to my comfort zone.  
> However, because I thought about it a lot, I now do have some prompts stuck in my head and might end up writing for them after all. Who knows. It's a definite possibility at this point.
> 
> Your prompts in general were really good, honestly!  
> I tried working with them as best as I could and - managed to get something written. I don't feel as if I necessarily succeeded, but an attempt was made! The result might not be 100% what you asked for, but I hope this fic is still something you can enjoy!

The overhead light flickered, throwing its artificial coldness dimly around the room. Cloud must have forgotten to turn it off before he had fallen asleep on top of his covers.  
  
Now, Cloud was staring unseeing up ahead at ceiling, breathing through the pounding headache with which he had awoken from fitful dreams. Not an unusual occurrence. Right at the brink of consciousness, Cloud had trouble breathing, the air had seemed strangely thick and filled with a sweet scent that Cloud just couldn’t place and that faded fast the harder he tried to remember what it reminded him of. It had left him feeling even more dizzy. Colourful specks of light danced in front of his vision. The flickering lights weren’t exactly helping the pain in his head subside and neither did the noises, amplified to a bothering degree.  
  
Cloud’s room rarely fell fully silent. The old neon lamps gave a constant low whirring sound, the piping groaned and whizzed and noises from the outside found their way inside through every crack in the concrete walls or came crawling in uninvited from beneath the ill-fitting door. Life in the slums underneath the plate never seemed to stand still. Even in the midst of night, there was usually something or other going on, some ruckus or commotion outside. And in the moments where there was no distant shouting, or crashing, or noises of people conducting whatever business in the dead of night, Cloud was reminded of the lives happening right by his side in the rooms next to his own. Through the thin walls, he could hear when Tifa was home, when she was pacing, or rummaging around and there was something almost reassuring about her immediate presence. Other nights, he could hear strange and unsettling noises coming from room 203 – and he tried not to think too long about these, nor the just as strange inhabitant of that room. Such thoughts made his head hurt and his stomach churn, as with these thoughts resurfaced images of striking green, silver and black and Cloud had to fight hard to not let these fragments take on more concrete shape. Hell, most of the time, they would anyways, as if to taunt him. A simple reminder, that these days it felt as if he was hardly in control of his own head. Just like right now, he thought, while angrily trying to blink the flashing patterns and the spikes of pain flaring behind his temples away.  
  
Deciding that his headache wouldn’t vanish by itself, Cloud stumbled out of bed, groaning in synch with the creaking of the cheap metal bed frame. Half-blind from exhaustion and the spots impairing his vision, he stumbled his way over to the sink, for once grateful that he could cross his entire apartment in only a few steps.  
  
His dreams were also getting stranger each night. When he awoke, there was never much he could remember. The scenes of his dream scape, fleeting enough as they were, gave way to nothing but blurry swirls of colour, fragments of sounds – sometimes, he could swear there had been a familiar voice speaking to him – gentle, yet urgent. Just as that faint scent of fresh flowers that had hung in the air, before he had been overwhelmed by the pounding in his head. That’s right, he thought, staggering and bracing himself against the sink. That smell. It had been flowers, hadn’t it?  
  
Cloud’s hands grasped hard at the sink, sending some mortar flaking to the ground from the added pressure on the screws. He would have to see to that soon, or the sink would no longer be mounted properly to the wall. It probably had been at some point, but the whole place was run-down, and the screws were beginning to come lose. Shakily, he drew a shallow breath, forcing one of his hands to turn the faucet, the rush of the tap water a welcome diversion from the droning of the room. Not much of a relief in terms of volume, but at least it was monotonous and consistent. Cloud forced himself to swallow down a few gulps of water. It left a rusty after-taste in his mouth but considering the state of the place and the state of Sector 7 slums in general, he could consider himself lucky enough to even have a place with a functioning filter installed and drinkable tap water. Lately, more and more, he had the feeling someone was trying to tell him something important. But the more insistently he tried to recall, the worse the splitting headache behind his temples got, as if he ran into a barrier, as if something – or someone – was preventing him from reaching certain regions of his mind.  
  
Cloud shuddered.  
  
Looking up, he found the faintly glowing mako eyes of his reflection tiredly blinking back at him.  
  
The mirror was spattered with all kinds of specks of dirt which Cloud never bothered to wipe away. Some of them had already been there when he had moved into the apartment and, not intending to stay long, he hadn’t seen the necessity to clean up and when he had tried to at some later point, under Tifa’s insistence, some of them hadn’t come off and instead the wiping just left disgusting smears on the glass and Cloud had given up. Consequently, the mirror was perpetually smudged in addition to being badly cracked in one place where the surface turned into a sharp-edged spider web. One of the worst cracks ran diagonally across almost the entire length of the mirror. All things considered, it was still functional for its general purpose.  
  
Cloud sighed. He looked as awful as he felt. His headache was subsiding, but the restless nights of tossing and turning with its bizarre and confusing patchwork dreams and the equally haunting day time visions were starting to take a toll on him. Mostly, they were putting a strain on his mind, but when he was being honest, Cloud would give a lot for a good night’s sleep and some peace and quiet, if only for a few hours. He was having no such luck and found himself wondering whether he should give up on getting more sleep tonight altogether.  
  
He splashed some water on his face – and that definitely helped making him feel at least a little clearer and a little more steady on his feet and Cloud would have been half-inclined to simply go back to bed and wait out the night – if not for anything that followed.  
  
This time, when he looked up again, there was someone else standing right behind him. Cloud’s heart immediately missed a beat, a flood of panic washing over his senses. The reflection in the dirty mirror glass was showing that familiar figure Cloud had so desperately tried not to let into his thoughts tonight – that face Cloud would recognize anywhere, even places where it had no right to appear.  
  
Sephiroth's elegantly swung lips were formed into a subtle smile, eyes alive with wont intensity.  
  
Cloud spun around, ready to fight, thoughts immediately racing, wondering frantically where he had put his sword before lying down for the night. In quick motion, Cloud was half expecting to crash into a solid body, so close had he stood behind him in the mirror, Cloud was ready to throw the first punch – there was noone there.  
  
Battle stance, fists at the ready, Cloud was blinking into a room only filled with the few cluttered messes here and there that counted for his meagre belongings.  
  
Cloud’s heart was pounding as bad as his head had, blood thrumming in his veins. He was waiting, letting tense seconds pass, watching, waiting for something to move, for a just as familiar voice to speak to him out of a corner of his room - or a corner of his mind. When nothing happened, Cloud dared to throw another careful glance back at the mirror – which revealed nothing safe for an empty room and Cloud’s own smudged reflection: tired, unnerved, and unmistakably on edge. Somehow, this only disturbed Cloud more and he quickly tried turning what was visible apprehension on his face into a deep frown.  
  
So, his mind was playing tricks on him. What else was new? Cloud figured by now he should be prepared for these increasingly vivid hallucinations to occur. However, that did not mean they got less disturbing just by happening on the regular and he could already feel the chill of the fright settle deep within his bones simply from allowing himself to contemplate about them at all and thus sending his whole being into high alert. Cloud also caught himself listening specifically for any sounds coming from his left door neighbour – but everything was eerily silent, except for the persistent noises of the lead pipes in the walls and his own heartbeat in his ears.  
  
The longer Cloud stared into the mirror, the harder it became to look away again. Even when his initial alarm had died down a bit, what remained was this nagging sensation, the vague thought that if he dared to avert his gaze, out of the corner of his eyes, he might see Sephiroth again.  
  
So, Cloud kept staring for a while longer, until it felt silly watching his own face, expression grim and barely moving, only his frown deepening in apprehension. As much as he tried to suppress the thoughts, he was half-expecting for slitted pupils to glance back at him from inside the mirror frame.  
  
Absentmindedly, unsure of what compelled him, Cloud reached out towards the glass, half a mind to run a finger across that long, thin crack in the surface. The second his finger touched the cold surface, the world shifted and Cloud had to grasp at the sink in panic not to keel over - a sudden resurgence of a sharp pain right behind his temples threatening to split his skull right open. The pain was accompanied by a cacophonous ringing in his ears – like the industrial noises of a large machine, a steady drumming, its engine roaring, metal clinking and clashing and pounding in Cloud’s already aching head.  
  
Cloud was blinking rapidly, the dim light in his room too harsh, hurting his retina, but whenever he blinked there were familiar images rushing before his eyes, blurry, disorienting – nauseating  
  
Then there came the sensation of strong hands laying themselves around his wrists, the initial touch alarming in its tenderness, before suddenly Cloud’s hands where pinned hard against the sink’s cold surface.  
  
“You’ve been thinking of me, Cloud?”  
  
The deceptively soft tone of Sephiroth’s voice was cutting the air sharply as Cloud's anticipation gave way to dreaded actuality.  
  
“Did you miss me that much?”  
  
Panic rose further in his body as Cloud ineffectively fought against the harsh confinement in which he had suddenly found himself. In reaction to his struggle, Sephiroth’s grip on Cloud’s wrists merely tightened to become quite painful. Through gritted teeth, Cloud let out a pained hiss.  
  
“I feel flattered.”  
  
Cloud couldn’t suppress the unvoluntary shivers running down his spine, elicited by that vivid tension that was particular to Sephiroth’s voice alone – always bordering the line between repose and danger.  
  
“Don’t flatter yourself too much,” Cloud spat, but it only earned him a low chuckle and the sensation of soft hair brushing over his neck as Sephiroth leaned in closer.  
  
“Look at me, Cloud.”  
  
Cloud felt the instinctual urge not to obey but at the same time, found himself unable to resist the compulsion to do exactly as Sephiroth had asked.  
  
Unmistakably, when he forced his gaze upwards, the mirror’s blank surface showed the two of them together. Sephiroth was standing close behind him, just as he had appeared that first time. His striking eyes caught Cloud’s in the reflection and his lips wound themselves into a confident smirk right next to Cloud’s ear.  
  
For a few heart beats, Sephiroth merely held his gaze, studying him closely. And as much as Cloud was trying not to give him anything, Sephiroth seemed pleased with whatever he had found, as his smile widened, almost - but never quite - reaching his eyes.  
  
“Let go of me,” Cloud said, trying to wind his wrists out of Sephiroth’s tight grasp.  
  
Sephiroth, however, was adamant in ignoring this demand and relentless in his hold on Cloud, cutting of circulation in Cloud's hands.  
  
“Have you thought about my proposition?” he asked instead, brushing his thumbs in circles over the back of Cloud’s hands. The tenderness of that touch alone made Cloud feel more uneasy than his words themselves ever could. Apparently sensing his discomfort, Sephiroth continued, not waiting for an answer Cloud was not inclined to give. "You have nothing to fear, Cloud." Cloud wondered how a gentle whisper against his ear could have the power to fill the entire room, each syllable deliberate, each word filled with purpose. "We are bound for a glorious future, you and I, if you would only accept me. We are bound for greatness – and for each other. There is still time for you to make the right decision. What do you say?”  
  
“No.”  
  
Sephiroth’s brows furrowed in displeasure, the faint smile dropping almost instantly.  
  
“I would encourage you to reconsider, Cloud,” he said and there was nothing veiled about the threat the words entailed.  
  
“I would encourage _you_ to let go of me,” Cloud bit back.  
  
Something sinister had entered Sephiroth's eyes, not quite anger but something much akin to it, something dark and dangerous that made Cloud’s blood run cold. Clearly and expectedly, he had not appreciated that answer.  
  
“Again, and again,” Sephiroth began and Cloud wasn’t even sure that Sephiroth was still talking to him. He was still rubbing circles along the back of Cloud's hands which were slowly growing numb, however his voice had taken on a distant quality, as if drifting off, part-way to some far place inside the depths of his own mind – and Cloud decided right then and there that that was not a place to which he would like to follow. “Every time, you are persistent to deny me.”  
  
“Well, have you asked yourself why?”  
  
There was a moment of silence as Sephiroth finally loosened his grip on Cloud’s wrist, for which Cloud was grateful, as the circulation, prickling and stinging, returned to his hands.  
  
“Yes,” Sephiroth took another step forward, invading Cloud's space further - so close now, that they were touching. Cloud could feel the press of the warm, solid body – a body that logically had no right to be there at all, that had no right to feel real – against his back. “Since every single time, without fail, you keep making the same foolish choices. No matter how many times we play this out.”  
  
Sephiroth let go of Cloud’s wrists altogether, slowly stroking up his arms before stopping rather abruptly to instead envelope him in a tight embrace, burying his face in the crook of Cloud’s neck. Cloud froze, too stunned trying to process what was happening to even think about taking that chance to fight himself free.  
  
“It must be _her_ influence.” Sephiroth whispered against his skin, his breath surprisingly warm and sending even more shivers running across Cloud’s skin - and if Cloud hadn’t been so confused and alarmed and if this had been anybody else, then this might have actually felt good instead of lighting up Cloud's whole being with burning dread.  
  
“ _Her_?”  
  
Sephiroth didn’t answer immediately, instead letting one hand slide over Cloud’s chest and down his stomach. If he noticed Cloud's full body shudder from the action – and Cloud was certain that he must have noticed – it didn’t show on his face when Sephiroth looked up again to seek renewed connection with Cloud’s eyes.  
  
“She is trying to reach you, to manipulate you for her own purpose and I am not certain for how much longer I can thwart her troublesome meddling.” He let his hand come to rest on Cloud’s abdomen, uncomfortably close to his hip and right over the hem of his shirt. “I wish you simply wouldn’t listen.”  
  
“Isn’t this exactly what _you’re_ doing?!” Cloud was growing frustrated – of the cryptic words that only seemed to make sense in Sephiroth’s own twisted perception of the world, of being cradled like this by the man that had so far done nothing but turn his whole life into a living nightmare of smoke and fire, the man who seemed hell-bent on destroying everything and everyone Cloud had ever cared about until there was nothing left but agonizing memories buried beneath ash and debris.  
  
“Is it?”  
  
At this point, Cloud was no longer having any of this nonsense, he was beyond fed up with Sephiroth toying with him, not giving him any straight answers and still expecting Cloud to – do what exactly? To hell with it all, to hell with Sephiroth.  
  
“I don’t know! I don’t know whatever the fuck it is that you want from me!”  
  
Sephiroth eyes narrowed dangerously, holding onto his composure and holding onto Cloud, so tightly as if he feared Cloud could vanish from his grip - which was laughable in itself.  
  
“What I want from you, Cloud – what I desire – is that you see reason and join me.”  
  
Sephiroth let one leather clad hand wander underneath Cloud’s shirt, stroking languidly over his stomach and back down again, while the other found its way to Cloud’s hip, effectively holding him in place.  
  
“Stop that,” Cloud could hear his own voice grow panicky, hating how pathetic he sounded as he tried to finally shake off his startlement and push Sephiroth away from him – to no avail. Sephiroth had him safely trapped between the sink and his own body, and Cloud was once again reminded of the extent of the other’s pure physical strength.  
  
“No,” Sephiroth echoed Cloud's rejection, graceful features unreadable.  
  
Another wave of fear and nausea hit Cloud, as it slowly dawned on him that trapped like this and unable to reach his weapon, there was not much he could do besides letting Sephiroth have his way with him - and Sephiroth knew that as well, as he now began to let his hand roam freely over Cloud’s squirming body. The worst of it being that Sephiroth’s fingers proofed quite skilled in their exploration and the sensation of cool, smooth leather against Cloud’s heated skin was not at all unpleasant.  
  
Everything about this was altogether hard to want and even harder to resist, especially when Sephiroth’s touches – demanding yet surprisingly gentle – were sending sparks across his skin. There had been a time, a lifetime and a half ago, when Cloud would have given everything to be touched by Sephiroth in this way, to even have a flicker of the man's attention and recognition. Now, Cloud had it in full and he would trade everything to just have him gone.  
  
Sephiroth, indifferent towards Cloud's weak attempts of protest, was stroking his chest, sensually teasing his nipples with his fingertips and obviously enjoying having Cloud gasp and squirm in his embrace, judging by the way his eyes were drinking in Cloud’s every move, every reaction - all with a look that resembled fondness too much for Cloud’s liking.  
  
The hand that had so far taken a bruising hold on his hip, had begun stroking over the bone, thumb occasionally slipping teasingly beneath the fabric of Cloud’s pants.  
  
In the same way that Sephiroth couldn’t seem to look away from Cloud, Cloud found himself inexorably drawn to watching Sephiroth in return. Cloud wasn’t sure what the emotion in the other’s face was – something dark and unknowable, eyes blazing with still restrained excitement – it resembled the intense focus Cloud had seen on Sephiroth’s face when in battle – and it made fear pool in the pits of his stomach, fear alongside something else which Cloud was reluctant to admit. It fit Sephiroth so well, it belonged nowhere else, that strange ferocity beneath all the restraint, always lurking just beneath the surface, always threatening to break lose and consume whatever was unfortunate enough to fall into its wake. And Cloud was left wondering how it was possible for someone to give him simultaneous feelings of being wanted and despised. Maybe, in Sephiroth’s eyes, that was all he was - something to possess, something to break and devour – Cloud's palms were, tense and close to cramping, were becoming sweaty where he had clutched the edge of the sink for purchase.  
  
Cloud’s breathing grew laboured, as he tried to fight the effects all these contradictory sensations of fear and pleasure were having on him, as tried to ignore how good it felt in that twisted and unwelcome way, when Sephiroth’s hand finally slipped inside of his pants. The contrast of leather on skin was already too much sensory overload and Cloud could not suppress soft moans from leaving his lips. The mockery of a reward that got him was Sephiroth stroking him agonizingly slowly, knowing full well the effect he was having on Cloud. Sephiroth's expression was testimont of his delight, as he relished forcing Cloud to give himself over to pleasure - piece by piece.  
  
And Sephiroth seemed to know exactly where to touch and how, and what words to whisper under his breath - whether if it was for the sake of his own distorted gratification, or just to see Cloud suffer further. For all Cloud knew, these were one and the same for Sephiroth.  
  
“Watch closely, Cloud. I would loath for you to miss how marvelous you look like this.”  
  
As much as Cloud had wanted to avert his gaze, he found that he couldn’t – overcome by this inexplicable control that Sephiroth seemed to have over him, Cloud was forced to watch himself far beyond the point where he could no longer stand the sight of himself: cheeks flushed, lips parted and eyes half-lidded in unwanted pleasure – his pitiful reflection split in-half by that nasty crack running through the mirror’s surface.  
  
"Indeed, can there be a sight more perfect than this? You and me - side by side?"  
  
Cloud had given up on struggling, his legs were shaky, straining from the sheer effort of keeping himself upright and standing. He was almost grateful for the way in which Sephiroth was pulling him against his chest, offering some form of bizarre support.  
  
“I wish you would open your eyes to recognize the truth which I see so clearly.”  
  
Sephiroth was whispering quietly in his ear while he caressed his chest, while he pleasured him at an excruciatingly slow pace – making sure every touch, every brush was deliberate and torturous.  
  
At some point, Cloud lost track of the exact words Sephiroth was speaking to him, entirely lulled in by the soothing quality of his voice. He was leaning back against Sephiroth, moaning helplessly and losing himself in the touches and the deceptively reassuring tone in which he kept speaking - their gentleness and urgency alone rang strangely familiar, but what they reminded him of kept slipping from Cloud's mind. Within the mirror frame, Cloud could watch himself unravel, watch himself become exceedingly undone by Sephiroth’s touches, his words and the admiration, the unveiled fascination with which Sephiroth was regarding him in return. It was as exhilarating as it was unsettling and Cloud was flooded with so many sensations and emotions that he feared he might just overflow, or burst - likely whichever Sephiroth deemed fit for him.  
  
Cloud was close, every nerve in his body strung high with tension, his knees almost buckling, and then Sephiroth was touching him in just the right way and –  
  
“Afterall,” Sephiroth smiled, as he pushed Cloud over the edge, and Cloud did nothing in return but let himself fall, “you are mine.”  
  
Cloud came with a choked cry, collapsing forward and catching himself only in the last second, as the support he had been given vanished in an instant. Startled, he looked up at the mirror, but Sephiroth was gone. Panting heavily and bracing himself against the dirty, run-down sink, Cloud found himself once more standing alone in his tiny, empty apartment, desperately trying to make some sort of sense sense of what he had just experienced. The cracked reflection in the mirror showed no one else but Cloud, face red with shame and exhaustion. He dared not turn away from it for an awful long time that night.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I was trying to work with your prompts, I promise!  
> Somehow all the timeline shenanigans ended up being more implied than explicitly stated and then everything also got a lot less messed up than I had originally planned? 
> 
> Also, please forgive me that I'm just really bad at writing anything mind control and mind fuckery related, I honestly tried to work that in as well, but it's not really something that comes easy to me. Apologies for that.
> 
> Now, enough of me trying to justify my writing. xD
> 
> Anyways, I hope, you still got some enjoyment out of this piece and I hope you have a great day!
> 
> post-author reveal addition:  
> If anyone wants to talk FFVII to me (or really anything, honestly): my Twitter is @FL3ANC3. :>


End file.
